


Angels Fall and Hunters Cry, Part 3

by destielismylovesong



Series: Angels Fall and Hunters Cry [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Destiel - Freeform, M/M, Parallel Lives, Parallel Universes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-02
Updated: 2013-08-02
Packaged: 2017-12-22 05:37:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/909533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/destielismylovesong/pseuds/destielismylovesong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It hadn’t been easy. In fact, it was more difficult than any regular relationship. After they found each other, they both wanted to hold on and never let go.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Angels Fall and Hunters Cry, Part 3

**Author's Note:**

> On [Tumblr](http://destielismylovesong.tumblr.com/post/53981238698/angels-fall-and-hunters-cry-part-3)

"I thought I was alone," Castiel says, his eyes on Dean’s, unwavering, unblinking. “I grew up thinking that I’d always feel empty, like there’s a part of me that was missing." His voice breaks, and Dean tightens his grip on Castiel’s hands. “I thought I would go through a thousand lives without you. That I’d never be able to find you, to see you, to kiss you, to hold you again. I thought my soul was doomed to eternity without yours. And then," Castiel laughs through tears, “you handed me your credit card. " Dean grins and wants to lean in to kiss him, but he knows the protocol. Not yet.

"When I was a kid, I had an imaginary friend," Dean begins softly, his gaze focused on the man in front of him. They stand under a canopy of flowers that Mary had built, surrounded by people who love them, who know them, who only need to look at them to see the centuries of love in their eyes as they profess their vows. “And after Mom met you, she pulled me aside later that night and asked me if your name was really Castiel. I rolled my eyes at her, convinced that she was teasing me, but that’s when she reminded me. Castiel, my imaginary friend," he says softly, smiling at the other man’s widening eyes. “He was my age, but I always told Mom and Dad that he had wings and lived in the sky with the rest of the angels." He works the next words out past the lump in his throat and the burning in his eyes. “So you see, you were never alone. Your soul was always with me, even if you didn’t know it. You will never go through a single life without me, Cas. Because I will always come and find you. I will step into every diner, every deli, every church, every classroom, every train, library, bar, party. I will find you in war and in peace, in sleep and dreams, in this life and the after."

"Dean," Castiel breathes, and pulls the other man in, lips on his before Dean can even blink. Not that he’s going to protest, Dean thinks as he sinks into the kiss, smiling at the laughter that erupts around them.

"Okay, um," Sam clears his throat. “Can I finish the services or…" He trails off when Castiel doesn’t let go and Dean only encourages him, wrapping his arms around his waist and molding their bodies together.

✿✿✿

It hadn’t been easy.

In fact, it was more difficult than any regular relationship. After they found each other, they both wanted to hold on and never let go. Dean even suggested, that night in the diner, that they just move in together immediately, his thoughts running on love, desire, adrenaline, and fear all at once. Castiel, ever the pragmatic one, kissed him soothingly and pointed out that they still needed to get to know each other.

"Cas, I died in your arms," Dean said, rolling his eyes. “I think we’re past the first date ritual."

"Actually," Cas said, blushing, “I’d love to take you out on a date."

Dean was too shocked to respond, and Cas grinned. “Point one for the fallen angel," he murmured before reaching up for Dean’s lips again. “Come," he said against them after a while. “We can get over this first date ritual quickly and painlessly."

He wrapped his hand around Dean’s wrist and pulled him towards his office at the back of the diner. When Dean protested- “I’m not dressed for a first date-" Castiel raised an eyebrow at him. Dean flushed a deep red and only laughed at himself, smiling when Castiel kissed him again.

Which was something Cas did as often as he could, Dean realized. They stayed up until seven in the morning on Castiel’s couch in his office, talking, snuggling, touching, kissing. Castiel took control of the kisses, dominating, and Dean gave in without question, until Castiel said something himself, his tone questioning, wondering if Dean was uncomfortable.

"I don’t know," Dean said as the sun began to peek through the windows. They lay together, side by side, and Dean ducked his head into Castiel’s chest almost shyly. “I guess I just-"

Castiel ran a soothing hand down his back, settling on his hip. “You’re not that experienced with guys, are you," he asked without judgment.

Still Dean hesitated before nodding. “I mean, I’ve screwed around," he said, pressing a kiss to Castiel’s collar bone. Then realizing what he said, he froze, horrified. “I don’t- I mean-"

Castiel only laughed and rubbed his back soothingly. “It’s fine," he said. “I didn’t exactly think you were a monk. Nor do I think that you’re the manwhore of the town, considering the premise of this conversation." He tipped Dean’s head back, looking him in the eye. “I’m a pretty dominant top. And you seem to be the bottom type." Dean opened his mouth to protest, but when Castiel shook his head, Dean closed his mouth without thinking. When he realized, he blushed again, a deep red, but Castiel simply kissed him soundly.

"This is nothing to be embarrassed about, okay?" he said softly. “Don’t give in to the stigmas. It’s okay to be who you are. Besides," he added, closing his eyes and resting his forehead on Dean’s, “this doesn’t mean I don’t want to switch it up, because God-" he shuddered- “I want you inside me more than I want air to breathe-" Dean choked back a moan- “so I hope you’re okay with all of this."

When they came together for the first time a week later, Dean was extremely vocal with how okay with it he actually was.

✿✿✿

They’d fought too.

Despite his bottoming tendencies in bed, where he submitted to Castiel without question, Dean still had a strong personality, and it showed itself as they adjusted to becoming a couple. A few weeks into the relationship, Castiel voiced his concerns about Dean staying up all night working.

"It’s just how I function," Dean replied, smiling up at Castiel. It was four in the morning, and Dean was seated at a table in the diner, marking papers and perfecting his lesson plan, while Castiel stood over him, working on the knots in his shoulders. “I stay up late and wake up late. It’s how I’ve always functioned."

"But that’s not healthy," Castiel pointed out.

"Cas, you can’t be serious," Dean said, raising his eyebrows and doing a wide sweep of the diner pointedly.

"Okay, but I’m here at night out of necessity," Castiel said, frustration seeping into his voice. He stepped back and crossed his arms. “In a couple of months I’m going to be able to hire someone to be here during the early hours of the morning, and I’ll be back to a regular schedule."

"Cas, I’ve been doing this since college, and I’m not going to change my habits now," Dean said, his voice final, brooking no arguments. Castiel bit his lip and walked off to his office. Dean, peeved and feeling guilty- _for no good reason_ , he told himself- muttered, “Well, if this is what’s going to be a big fight, maybe there’s a reason why we’ve never actually found each other and stayed together."

The next thing he knew, he heard the sound of glass shattering, and he was up, cursing, frantic, looking for the cause of the sound. His eyes met Castiel’s, who was standing by the door to his office, looking up from the cup that had slipped from his fingers, a look of immeasurable hurt in his eyes.

"Cas, are you okay?" Dean stalked over to him, wanting to check for injuries, careful to step over the broken glass and spilled coffee. But Castiel backed away, a step out of Dean’s reach.

"How could you even say that?" he asked, his eyes haunted as he looked at Dean. “I’ve been looking for you my  _whole life_ , how could you even  _think_  that?"

Dean’s breath caught, and his eyes filled with tears, one slipping down his cheek, his heart unable to take the pain in Castiel’s expression. “I didn’t mean it," he said quietly. “I’m sorry, it was just a stupid thing to say. It was really dumb, okay? I can’t imagine waking up without you anymore, much less living without you." The look on Castiel’s face didn’t ease, and Dean stepped forward, over the glass and coffee, and pulled Castiel into his arms.

"Cas," he kissed the top of his head and leaned back, one of his tears landing on Castiel’s cheek. Castiel snapped out of his hurt, hugging Dean to him tightly.

"Don’t you  _dare_ ," he said into Dean’s shirt. “Don’t you  _dare_  say something like that,  _ever again_. Don’t you understand why I’m so upset? I want to sleep with you at night! I want to hold you and feel your arms around me and fall asleep with your breath in my ear, because I never got to do that last time! I had those stupid wings and- I can’t- I don’t know what I’d do without you, okay?" His arms were around Dean’s waist, his hands fisted into the back of Dean’s shirt. “I love you, okay? I love you."

Dean froze, and when Castiel realized what he’d said, he froze too, breathless, nervous. When Dean didn’t say anything, Castiel peeled back from him gently.

"It’s okay," he said, trying to keep his voice steady. “It’s only been a few weeks, I know it’s too soon-"

Dean was moving, shoving him up against the door, his mouth hovering over Castiel’s. “Shut up, you idiot," Dean growled. “I love you too. How could you even think that I don’t?"

That night Dean had fucked Castiel for the first time, and Castiel had trembled as he’d kissed Dean’s tears away.

✿✿✿

They’d worried. A lot.

Neither of them said anything until three months into the relationship, when they stood together, kissing softly and laughing at how many of Dean’s boxes stood in Castiel’s living room, still unpacked.

“ _Our_  living room," Castiel corrected him, smiling up at him.

"What have we been doing all day?" Dean groaned. “I don’t want to unpack anymore."

"Well, we’ve mostly been doing this," Castiel murmured, reaching up to pull Dean into another kiss, this one hard, passionate, his tongue slipping past Dean’s lips, sweeping through his mouth. Dean tightened his hold on Castiel, gasping, and Castiel led him over to the couch, pushing him down against the cushions. Dean pulled off his shirt and was about to unbutton his pants when he realized that Castiel wasn’t moving.

"Cas?" he said, reaching out to pull Castiel down to him. The other man resisted and sat down on the other end of the sofa. Without needing instruction, Dean settled himself in the vee of Castiel’s legs, lying on his side, one arm around Castiel’s waist and the other tracing a soothing pattern on his chest.

"What’s wrong?" he asked after a few minutes of silence.

"Do you remember other lives?" Castiel asked suddenly. “Not just a fallen angel and his hunter, but other ones."

Dean raised his eyes to Castiel’s and saw the truth. “You do," he said, his heart aching for him.

"You don’t," Castiel said. Dean shook his head and wrapped both arms around Castiel, holding him tightly. “I don’t get too much," Castiel whispered. “Just bits and pieces. But I see enough to know that we’ve never found each other in time. And now that we have, I want to make sure- I want us to-"

He fumbled over his words and Dean helped. “You want to make sure that I always step through those diner doors from now on," he whispered. Castiel nodded, and Dean rested his head against his chest.

"Okay."

They searched. They looked everywhere- Wiccans, angel worshippers, Satanists, Catholic priests, Buddhist priests, ministers, rabbis, imams. They finally found a Native American shaman by chance- rather, he found them- when he walked into the otherwise empty diner late one night and almost fainted when he saw them kissing by the counter.

At first they were annoyed, thinking that he was just another homophobic 50’s man with a stick up his ass. But Castiel, ever the angelic one, rushed over to him and helped him into a booth. Dean glared at the man until Castiel raised his eyebrows and pointed to the pitcher of water on the countertop.

The man gratefully took the glass Dean offered, sipping it slowly as he stared at the two men sitting across from him.

"Your souls have been alone for a long time," he said finally, his voice quiet, gravelly. The shock on Dean’s and Castiel’s faces would have been comical if not for the seriousness of the situation.

"How-" Dean started, and the man smiled.

"You’re not the only ones," he said mysteriously. “Although I’ve never met two people who’ve been separated for longer. Or souls who reach for each other so strongly." He looked away, as if it was difficult, too bright, to look at them. “I’m sorry for your loss."

"We’re together now," Castiel said firmly, his hand slipping into Dean’s. He hesitated, looking at Dean. Dean nodded. This was what they’d been looking for, what they needed. Castiel blurted out, “We need to know how to- what’s going to happen-"

"I can’t guarantee anything," the shaman said. He told them his name was Michael Blackwolf and walked them through exactly what they’d need to do. Later on, they smiled at each other when they learned that his true name was Sees Souls in the Night.

✿✿✿

They’d had family problems.

There was plenty to go around. Castiel refused to tell his family that Dean was the man whose presence he’d felt his whole life, and Dean felt betrayed. Dean worried about how his family would react to his having a boyfriend, and Castiel, offended by the simple title given to his position in Dean’s life, also criticized Dean for hiding his true self from his family.

"If they’re as wonderful as you say they are," he said lightly one night, as they lay on the couch, the television droning on in the background. Castiel continued, trying to keep the tension out of a conversation they’d rehashed ten times over, “And if they truly love you, they wouldn’t care if you brought a green-skinned alien home."

"I’m okay with a multidimensional wave of celestial intent, but I draw the line at green-skinned aliens," Dean murmured, his body draped over Castiel’s on the couch. Unlike Castiel, he wasn’t even pretending to watch the TV. His hands were exploring Castiel’s chest, mostly uncovered after Dean had undone half his buttons. His lips sucked and his teeth bit, leaving marks everywhere. Castiel was pretending not to notice, but Dean knew he wasn’t unaffected and went about doing his best to make Castiel sigh with pleasure.

"Dean," Castiel gasped finally, after giving in and arching into Dean’s touch. “We have to talk about this."

Dean stopped with a groan and rested his arms on Castiel’s chest, crossing them and leaning his chin there, meeting the other man’s eyes. “Let’s start with just my mom, okay?" Castiel smiled in response.

Mary Winchester had been surprised- to say the least- when she arrived at the restaurant to see her son sitting with another man, their heads turned to each other, the other man’s arm around her son’s shoulders, possessive. She almost walked up to the table, but stopped when Dean turned his head completely towards the man, resting his forehead on his and closing his eyes contentedly. The other man brought up his hand and cupped her son’s cheek, and Mary had to push back the tears that sprang to her eyes at the naked love in his eyes.

Dean finally pulled back and looked at his watch, and she smiled when he raised his head to look around the restaurant for her and met her eyes. She walked over to their table, sat down, and reached over to kiss a surprised Castiel on his cheek. Dean’s mouth dropped open, but she ignored him, her attention focused on the ocean that peered at her warily.

"I’m Mary," she said softly, extending a hand. “And you must be the peace my son has been searching for his whole life."

This time it was Castiel who had to hold back the tears that threatened. “Castiel," he choked out, reaching for her hand. Mary ignored it, stood back up, and pulled Castiel up into a hug.

"Welcome to the family," she whispered in his ear. Dean’s gaze met hers over Castiel’s shoulder, and she reached out to wipe the tear away that fell to her son’s cheek.

"So how did you two find each other?" she asked curiously over their appetizers. Dean, hesitant, looked over to Castiel, who made a split-second decision.

"Dean walked into my diner one night," he said quietly, “and a couple of months later a shaman we met said that he’d never seen two souls separated for so long." Nerves screamed at him, and he swallowed as he prepared to tell the long story with Dean. After all, he knew, no mother wants to find out that her son was in love with an ex-mental patient.

But she only looked at them, misty-eyed, when they finished explaining. “That seems just about right," she said simply, and Castiel loved her.

When Dean had invited Sam out for beers, his little brother had been his usual eager-puppy self. Dean decided to keep Castiel’s presence on the night out a secret again, hoping his brother would take the surprise as well as his mother had. Sam brought Jess to the bar with him, which Dean hadn’t expected, even though he should have. Of course, it turned out the brothers were even, because Sam hadn’t expected to walk into the bar and see Dean up against the wall with another man’s tongue down his throat.

He and Jess stood behind them, unnoticed, until Jess coughed. Loudly. Castiel pulled back, his eyes hazy as he turned around. Dean, his eyes still closed, made a sound of protest and reached for him.

"Dean, I think we lost track of time," Castiel said, amusement in his voice as he took in the shock on Sam’s face. The shock became protectiveness when Dean opened his eyes, looking too fucked out to care as he took in the presence of his brother and his girlfriend. Castiel moved back a step at the look in Sam’s eyes and raised his hands up in a gesture of surrender.

"Chill, I’m his boyfriend," he said, reaching down slowly for Dean’s hand. Dean gripped his tightly in return. “I thought you hated that term," Dean said, raising an eyebrow. “I believe soulmate was the term you offered in exchange."

"Soulmate looks like an understatement," Jess said, smiling, taking Castiel’s free hand, her eyes friendly and sweet as she pulled him over to the bar, leaving the two brothers to talk.

Dean ran his hand through his hair, eyeing Sam carefully. “Why didn’t you tell me?" Sam asked, the upset clear in his voice.

"Because I was in love and getting fucked in the ass for the first time in my life, and along with the hundreds of painful memories I was remembering from a past life, it was a little bit difficult to think of other people!" Dean shot out, inexplicably defensive, the words tumbling out all at once. Sam’s eyes widened incrementally, but he didn’t say a word.

"Well fuck," Dean said, reaching back to rub the nape of his neck, an obvious tell of his stress.

"You’re going to have to repeat that again for me," Sam said, “slowly." Dean rolled his eyes and pointed to the bar.

"It’s easier when he’s there to corroborate my story," he said simply at Sam’s questioning look.

Telling his mom, and then Sam and Jess, was easy as pie compared to the task of telling John. Dean knew his father was old-fashioned, structured, a military man at heart. But he also knew that at the end of the day, John wanted to see his son happy. So when Dean sat down next to his father in the den and watched the news with him, his heart beating a million times a minute, he was also able to calmly mute the television during commercials and turn to his dad.

"There’s someone-" he paused. He looked away from his dad, and then met his eyes again, knowing his nerves were clear as day. “There’s someone I want you to meet. Someone important."

"Is she a blonde or a red-head?" John had asked, laughter in his voice as he teased his son, trying to lighten his son’s tension.

"Actually," Dean said, clearing his throat, “he’s got brown hair."

John stilled and looked at Dean, confusion, concern, and upset warring for dominance in his expression. “Dean," he said hesitantly. He stopped, trying to find the right words. “Are you sure, son?"

That’s when Dean decided to go for broke. “He’s mine," he said quietly, wanting to cry at the pain of the love he felt, needing Castiel at his side. “When we met, Dad-"

"Love at first sight?" John joked, a bit of his discomfort still apparent.

"No, Dad," Dean said, struggling, trying to figure out a way to explain to his father that Castiel was a part of his soul. That’s when everything came spilling out under the pressure. “I’ve always wanted to make you proud, always," he rambled, the words coming out quickly, panicked, despite the calm he’d tried to feel. “Be a man of the house, find a nice girl, settle down and make Mom happy with grandkids. I never, ever wanted to disappoint you, Dad, and I don’t want you to think I’m crazy, because I’m not, we’re not, I swear-"

"Whoa, Dean, whoa kiddo," John said, leaning forward and placing a comforting hand on his son’s shoulder. “Why don’t you start from the beginning."

So he did. Dean loved his dad, but he knew his limitations and never thought, in his entire life, that John could be this patient, this understanding. When Dean cried that night, explaining to John that he didn’t know how to make his previous death easier on Castiel, John had just looked at him and smiled.

"Dean, it’s not about making it easier," he advised gently. “It’s about being there, giving him support through the pain. Sometimes I relive your mom’s screaming from the burns she got-" they both closed their eyes and tried to banish the memories of the worst night of their lives, twenty-five long years ago. “But somehow your mom," John smiles softly, “she knows, and she comes to me, and hugs me. And it grounds me."

A week later, when Castiel woke up in the middle of the night, his tears soaking through his T-shirt, he felt Dean surround him, pulling him into his arms, throwing a leg over both of Castiel’s, pressing soft kisses to his ear and throat and wiping away the moisture from his eyes. Castiel sighed, a calm washing over him, and fell back asleep cocooned in Dean’s warmth.

The next day, when Dean brought Castiel over for one of the Winchester family barbecues, John welcomed him with a smile and a beer, pulling him over to the grill and asking him questions about the cooking at the diner.

A few weeks later, Dean and Castiel discovered that that their argument about whether Castiel should tell his family about his past with Dean had been a moot point.

The second his parents and siblings found out that Castiel’s new lover was a man, they got up from the booth and walked out of the diner. For good. Castiel insisted over and over that he didn’t care, but Dean was able to see past his words.

"No one will ever be able to replace them," he said quietly where they lay together on the couch in Castiel’s office, the lights dimmed. He held his angel close, making sure their bodies were touching at every possible angle. “But I love you. And we’re going to make a family of our own one day. And," he grinned, wondering if it was too early to joke about it, “I think my mom is ready to trade me in for you anyway."

"Marry me," Castiel said suddenly, and Dean froze in shock.

"Cas," he said carefully, despite both his heart and his mind screaming at him to say  _yes, yes, YES_ , “you’ve just had a stressful day, and I don’t want you to say something that you don’t-"

Castiel pressed a finger to his lips, quieting him, and reached into his pocket. He pulled out a simple white gold band, and Dean stared. “I bought this for you a week and a half ago," Castiel confessed, looking away shyly, kissing Dean’s shoulder. He looked back up, hesitating at Dean’s inscrutable expression.

"You bought me a ring," Dean said, and there was wonder in his voice. Castiel relaxed slightly.

"Yes," he admitted. “I mean, it can be an engagement ring. Or I could slip it on to your finger the day of-"

"I don’t have anything for you," Dean said worriedly. “I didn’t kno-"

Castiel laughed softly and gathered Dean to him. “You weren’t supposed to know," he said, and Dean felt his smile against his ear. “I do believe proposals are traditionally a surprise?"

"Cas, I love you," Dean whispered, and Castiel paused at the seriousness in his voice. “Is that a yes?" he asked hopefully. In an instant, he was beneath Dean on the couch, being kissed fiercely, his breath robbed from his lungs.

"Yes," Dean murmured, and Castiel reached up to wrap his arms around his neck. They didn’t make it home that night.

✿✿✿

Three weeks later, Dean’s family, along with Anna and Gabriel, Castiel’s rebellious teenage siblings, watch as Dean and Castiel break apart to breathe, resting their foreheads together.

"I will  _always_  find you," Dean swears, his voice shaking with emotion. He pushes the ring he’d bought for Cas onto his finger, past his knuckle, and watches as it settles.

Castiel takes the ring he’d proposed with and slips it onto Dean’s finger. “We have an appointment,  _always_ ," he promises, “and I will  _always_  be waiting for you."

 


End file.
